


Nights

by Katrartt



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aged-Up Peter Parker, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Family Feels, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Marvel Universe, Other, Peter Angst, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Canon, Post-Endgame, Tony Feels, Years Later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 07:01:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18823519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katrartt/pseuds/Katrartt
Summary: Eleven years since Iron Man died.Eleven years since Morgan's father passed.Sometimes it gets hard, when she least expects it. Peter understands that when he pays her a much needed visit on a rooftop.





	Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Hella quick drabble that I hope y'all enjoy. :))) I have an AP test tomorrow and I'm hoping this angst won't curse me lmAo.

 

Taking a sip from her cheap beer, Morgan Stark watched the orange painted sky. She watched as it reflected off of the concrete jungle that was New York City, subconsciously bobbing her head to an AC/DC song she hadn't heard in years.   
  
She flicked her gaze up as a boy only about a year older than her stood up next to her. She could've sworn his name was Conrad, or Corwin, but maybe it was Cole. She didn't really care at this particular moment, deciding against the idea of clarification.   
  
"Well, I need to head out, my friend is waiting for me," He said. He paused for a moment, and then said, "hey, as much as I enjoy these, I don't know if you should keep dealing with hi-"   
  
"Don't finish that," Morgan murmured.   
  
He only sighed, turning away and muttering a  _ 'thanks again.' _ She went back to watching the city's sunset as the boy's footsteps echoed on his way to the stairs leading from the roof down to the street.   
  
Morgan squinted as a familiar web-shooting, pun-obsessed idiot who always knew how to make her smile appeared in the distance. After a moment of watching, she realized he was heading to  _ her _ rooftop, and his feet touched the spot next to her.   
  
Pulling off his mask, Peter Parker huffed, shifting to sit down next to her.   
  
"Who was that?" He asked curiously. Morgan bit her lip, and turned away. She shrugged, taking a larger swig of her beer this time. She heard Peter scoff as he leaned back on his palms, hanging his legs over the edge of the building. "Not again! I already told you-"   
  
"Yeah, yeah, I'm too young for that kind of stuff, I shouldn't disrespect myself this way, whatever," She said, "Mom says the same thing. And so does Happy. And Harley. Well, Harley and Hap haven't  _ said _ anything, but I can see it in their faces whenever I-"   
  
Peter placed a hand on her shoulder, silencing her. He then leaned forward, bringing Morgan with him. Somehow without her noticing, his hand had now traveled to wrap around her beer, and she watched with pursed lips as he took it and placed it on the ground opposite of the side where Morgan sat on the roof. He shook his head, exhaling deeply.   
  
"You're sixteen, Morgan, stop drinking like you're a forty-seven year old alcoholic going through a divorce," He joked. She felt the corners of her lips lift upwards, but the hint of a smile only lasted so long. Peter let the heels of his palms rest on the edge, and Morgan shifted to mirror his position as they both pointed their gazes downward toward the street. She watched as the boy from before laughed and talked away with his friends in the empty alley, cherishing the calm as quiet ensued.    
  
"What are you doing, Momo?" Peter murmured after a long moment. Morgan wanted to shrug, but she also knew that  _ that _ was pointless, and Peter was always the one she could talk to. He was the brother she never had. He was always her best friend, in every aspect of the word, and he always had her back. She couldn't just shrug to that.   
  
So, instead, she replied, "It's just...hard." His head perked up bit at that, his brows furrowed as he waited or her to elaborate. "I mean...nevermind, I don't really have any-"   
Peter straightened, the corners of his mouth tilting down.   
  
"Morgan, you have have every right to feel what you do," He said firmly, "Never forget that."He pursed his lips, then, softly, "did anyone tell you otherwise?"   
  
Morgan hesitated, "I mean....it's just, these two boys. They think that I act like I'm better than everyone else because of...because of Dad. Because he  _ is _ my father. And I bet she lot of others feel that way, they can't be the only ones and they just...I don't know. I just...get this feeling every now and then. I didn't even *know* him for that long like I shouldn't be feeling like this, like, did all of the things I've done, all of those gadgets and grades and things I've made mean nothing? Was it all because of just...him? And they come in and now I feel like...I don't know.”

  
Peter narrowed his eyes, taking in a sharp breath. "Pieces of shit," he muttered, earning a flinch out of Morgan. He never cursed, at least not around her. He turned his gaze towards the street again. The glow of the streetlights as the last few traces of daylight accentuated the shadows on his face, and made the bags under his eyes all the more obvious. He really did try every day to further Tony's legacy, too the point where he worked himself too hard. Everyone told her that Tony did the same thing. For those brief five years she had 

With him, Morgan remembered the way he did it just as a father, always trying to make her life as easy as it could be, always teaching her and letting her explore the curiosities of her brain as a young child. She didn't remember much, since she was so young, but she remember that she loved him.   
  
And she especially appreciated the way Peter had clearly had something special with Tony. She cherished the way Peter always tried to be like Tony, and more. Peter knew Tony better than Morgan had remembered, and he'd a always been there the way Tony was after he was gone. He and Harvey were like brothers to her, and she always understood them.   
  
Just like she understood how much it hurt when someone disrespected the memory of her father.   
  
Peter exhaled slowly. "You shouldn't listen to that. I know it's hard, I really do," he tried. She could see the way his eyes grew glassy, he was struggling with it too. She'd never seen him really cry, but she had seen the way his shoulders stiffened, the way his eyes glossed over, the way his brow furrowed and his face, when he was upset. Peter hadn't gotten like this in years. He was always so strong, so good and optimistic, so hardworking, it was hard to watch when certain nerves were pushed about topics.   
  
Seeing his face hurt more than the people who  told her she was invalid, a fraud, with no right to anything she'd achieved. It softened her heart and sobered her head, bringing her back to the present, the ache only growing inside her. She saw so much of her father in Peter, she saw so much of her father everywhere. She was constantly overshadowed by him, or in light of him, or just missing him.   
  
She always missed him.   
  
Especially when people spoke ill of her as if she meant nothing because her father meant everything. One might have expected her to hate Tony, his memory, when people did that. But it only made her miss him more. She only had a short time with Tony, but his absence was always present, especially as she got older.   
  
And now, as Peter's brow furrowed in thought, as of he was trying to find the right words to say, she felt a wave of aching wash over her. For her, for Peter, for everyone. There were no words to say here, not really. There wasn't anything to do but just remember. And move on.   
  
Her small attempt at trying to hold back the way her face crumpled into tears failed miserably.   
  
Peter looked back, and immediately wrapped his arms around her. He always gave the beat hugs. He always knew exactly how long to hold, how tight, when to speak, when to stay silent...and this one, he held Morgan for a long time. He rested his chin on her head, pulling her tighter, holding her face in the crook of his neck.    
  
The embrace didn't end until well after the tears falling from Peter’s eyes onto Morgan’s head as well as her own had dried up.

**Author's Note:**

> :,) you're welcome.


End file.
